
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 
Z.. 



I ' &4 



UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 



MEMORIAL 



OF 



JOHN C. DALTON, M. D. 



AN ADDRESS 



Delivered before the Middlesex North District 
Medical Society, 

April 27, 1864, 



BY 



JOHN O. CAREEN, M . D 

LOWELL 




Cambridge 

UNIVERSITY PRESS 
1864 



CORRESPONDENCE. 



Lowell, April 27, 1864. 
JOHN O. GREEN, M. D. 

Dear Sir, — 
The undersigned, a committee appointed for that purpose, would, 
in behalf of the members of the Middlesex North District Medical 
Society, express to you their sincere thanks for your able and appro- 
priate address on the life and character of their late associate, Dr. 
John C. Dalton, delivered before them this day ; and would respect- 
fully ask you for a copy of the same for publication. 
Very respectfully yours, 

CHARLES A. SAVORY, 

J. P. JEWETT, 

GEO. H. WH1TMORE. 



Lowell, April 30, 1864. 

Gentlemen, — 
I comply with your request, waiving all personal feelings of reluc- 
tance, from the same consideration which prompted me to deliver it, 
namely, that a tribute was due to the character and. services of the 
departed, however humble and imperfect my qualifications, and par- 
tial the judgment of the friends who conferred the appointment 
upon me. 

Respectfully yours, 

JOHN O. GREEN. 
To CHARLES A. SAVORY, M. D., \ 

J. P. JEWETT, M. D., ^ Committee. 

GEO. H. WHITMORE, M. D., I 



In accordance with arrangements previously made under the direc- 
tion of the Middlesex North District Medical Society, for an address 
with appropriate services in respect to the memory of their late 
venerable associate, Dr. John C. Dalton, the fellows of the Society, 
together with a large number of the citizens of Lowell, — friends 
and acquaintances of the deceased, — assembled in Mechanics' Hall, 
on the 27th of April, 1864, at 2 o'clock, P. M. 

The Order of Exercises was as follows : — 

I. The Dirge, " Rest, Spirit, rest," by the Choir. 

II. Prayer by Rev. F. Hinckley. 

III. Introduction of the Orator, Dr. J. O. Green, to the audience, 
by the President, Dr. J. C. Bartlett, in the following terms : — 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, — 

" It is an important and fundamental law of human progress, that 
' the good which a man does shall live after him,' and it is in conse- 
quence of the innate love of goodness which exists in the human 
heart, that the Middlesex North District Medical Society has invited 
you to unite with us in commemorating the good traits in the charac- 
ter of our late brother and your esteemed friend, the late Dr. John 
C. Dalton. 

" I have the pleasure to introduce to you, as the exponent of the 
feelings of the Medical Society, your respected fellow-citizen, Dr. 
John O. Green." 

IV. Address by Dr. J. O. Green. 
V. Funeral Hymn by Choir. 

VI. Benediction. 



ADDRESS 



MEDICAL men are divided into two chief class- 
es : those who are eminently practical in their 
professional associations, tastes, and pursuits, and those 
who are mainly devoted to theoretical labors and stud- 
ies, and regulate their practice by the simple opera- 
tions of the intellect and imagination. The various 
grades intervening between these two general classes it 
is unnecessary to enumerate or define ; but there are 
few who may not be fairly embraced under one of them, 
from a visible preponderance of his professional pecu- 
liarities or predilections. 

The ancient sentiment of Truth between the two 
extremes is no less emphatic and imperative now than 
formerly. An admirable model of professional excel- 
lence will combine theory and experience. So ingen- 
ious and plausible, however, are the teachings of the 
one, that our medical journals and libraries are teeming 
with them. But the disclosures of experience and dil- 
igent observation are much less punctually recorded 
and promulgated ; yet, contrasting the extremes of 
multiplied theories and simple experience, it cannot 
fail to happen that a wise preference must be given to 
the latter. 

There is no danger of too much experience. Med- 
ical science is pre-eminently practical. The crises and 



8 

dilemmas in which the practitioner is required to mus- 
ter his resources are not such as to allow delay or fos- 
ter speculation. The diseases and agonies of the body 
are real ills, and by the sufferer himself painfully recog- 
nized as such. The fruits of experience only are pro- 
lific of relief in their application to present issues. 
There is nothing more salutary in its influence on the 
mind of the patient than the active impressions which 
a lofty practical discernment on the part of the physi- 
cian is certain to produce. It immeasurably enhances 
both the success and the reputation of the practitioner. 
It furnishes him an indescribable gratification in cases 
of weighty responsibility and singular complication. 

That such signal superiority in the career of medi- 
cal practice can be attained by supineness or accident 
need not for a moment be imagined. It can only be 
the reward of sterling probity, unwearied assiduity, and 
lifelong patience. It must be achieved by careful ob- 
servation of insignificant details, by diligent compari- 
son of examples, by the indefatigable love of research, 
and by a constant attention to the doctrines of experi- 
ence which older and discreeter minds have accumu- 
lated. 

The brief and unadorned instructions of toil-hard- 
ened men also, — of such as have, through a long and 
busy life, battled with prejudice and discouragement, 
— these are worthy to be reserved in the minds of 
their successors, and reproduced in the excitement of 
unforeseen exigency, and amid the doubts of conflict- 
ing counsel and serious apprehension. The practical 
thinker sees no emergency so desperate as not to 
permit the exercise of some competent philosophy, 
or ■ the employment of some fit expedient, which, if 



inadequate to secure convalescence, may be at least 
regarded in the retrospect as the dictate of cautious 
prudence or enlightened deliberation. 

At the close of the long, most busy, and most use- 
ful professional life of our deceased associate, Gentle- 
men, you cannot hesitate as to which of the two 
classes which I have described he belonged, and em- 
inently adorned. He was a man of earnestly prac- 
tical habits and aspirations. Such were his aims, his 
training, and his rewards. Like many other hon- 
ored members of our profession, too, he has left 
scarcely a single record of his ample experience. One 
of his intimate friends writes me, that his efforts to 
gather some information respecting his life and his- 
tory have resulted in the knowledge of no facts other 
than those known to all who came in contact with 
him in the daily routine of professional and social 
life. His course differed, probably, little from that 
of every true, honest, upright, honorable, faithful med- 
ical man : presenting in its unambitious pursuits few 
incidents other than a long-life series of kind actions 
and deeds of mercy to be known and appreciated only 
by those upon whom they were generously conferred. 

On the 17th of April, 1857, at the solicitation of 
his class secretary, Dr. Dalton furnished to him an 
autobiographical letter, containing the controlling 
events of his life, from which I desire freely to quote. 

(C I was born in the town, now city, of Boston, 
May 31, 1795. From a private school in a sunny 
upper-room in Spring Lane I was in due time trans- 
ferred to the public schools, which, in our district, 
were then, and for many years after, kept by Masters 
Snelling and Haskell. 



IO 

"In the spring of 1807, being then twelve years 
of age, I was supposed, by the aid of this and other 
means, to have been sufficiently indoctrinated in the 
elements to justify promotion to a higher sphere ; 
and it having been decided about this time that I 
should c go to college/ I was put under the care of 
Dr. Luther Stearns, Principal of Medford Academy, 
then at the height of its celebrity, with whom I re- 
mained until, with the sixty-two afterward constitut- 
ing our class, I entered Harvard in 18 10. Among 
the distinguished men of this class were James Walker, 
William H. Prescott, F. W. P. Greenwood, and 
Pliny Merrick. 

cc Here forming," he says, "many friendships which 
time has served only to confirm and strengthen, and 
which have bestrewed the path of my after-life with 
roses." 

The four years of college life were rilled with con- 
scientious and industrious effort. Among other dis- 
tinctions, in his Senior year he wrote for the Bow- 
doin Prize. The subject was some question of pol- 
itics ; " for I remember," says his college chum, 
"he took out of. the Library c Sidney on Govern- 
ment/ in reference to it. I also thought of writing 
at the same time, but had not perseverance enough, 
and did not do it. When he won the prize, he laid 
out a part of it in a book which he gave me,- — John- 
son's Lives of the Poets/ I have it still. I believe 
he did it to soften my mortification." 

"Graduating in 18 14, and not having yet de- 
cided upon a profession, I accepted from my former 
instructor an ushership in his Academy, having had 
some little experience in the honorable calling of ped- 



1 1 

agogue, as teacher of a district school in the town of 
Groton during the winter vacation of our Senior year. 
Retaining this position one entire year, I entered my 
name, in the fall of 1815, as student of medicine in 
the office of Dr. Josiah Bartlett of Charlestown, at- 
tended two regular courses of Medical Lectures in 
Boston, and a third one during the winter of 1817- 
18, in the University of Pennsylvania, in Philadel- 
phia, where I enjoyed the privilege of instruction 
from the master minds of such men as Caspar Wis- 
tar, Philip Syng Physic, John Syng Dorsey, Nathan- 
iel Chapman, and James Dewees, having the mel- 
ancholy distinction, as a member of the class from 
Massachusetts, of officiating as pall-bearer at the fu- 
neral of the last named, who died before the expira- 
tion of the course." 

His medical degree was from Cambridge, in August, 
18 1 8. The subject of his thesis was Dysentery, Dr. 
Samuel L. Dana of this city receiving his degree at 
the same time. 

In the spring of 18 18, he accepted the invitation 
of Dr. Rufus Wyman of Chelmsford to succeed him 
at that place, he having been recently elected to the 
Superintendency of the McLean Asylum, then just 
established at Charlestown, now Somerville. At a 
public meeting of the citizens assembled upon the 
occasion of the contemplated removal of their beloved 
physician, — than whom no one ever enjoyed more 
fully and generally the confidence of the whole com- 
munity, — it was voted to request him to select a 
successor ; and a pledge was given to receive and 
adopt the person whom he should recommend. With 
characteristic sagacity, he invited Dr. Dalton, then 



12 

in his twenty - third year, and his medical studies 
scarcely completed. No recommendation could have 
been more desirable and essential to success, and 
no appointment could have been more satisfactory 
and fortunate in its results to all parties. 

The culture of his years of study was now to show 
its fruits. He entered at once upon the labors and 
responsibilities of country practice. Self-sacrificing 
and wearing as is the toil, self-denying and absorbing 
as are its duties, the training gives firmness and ripe- 
ness to the forming medical character, cultivates self- 
reliance, develops ingenuity in adapting means to 
ends, and calls for all the attributes of practical ear- 
nestness and sound judgment. 

In the early part of his career at Chelmsford, at 
almost the beginning of professional life, occurred 
the case which illustrates the power of the circum- 
stances which were forming the character of our de- 
ceased friend. 

Mr. S , aged seventy-eight years, a hardy yeo- 
man from one of the hilly districts of New England, 
when more than one hundred miles from home, upset 
his two-horse wagon in Chelmsford, fell on his hip 
and could not get up. He was carried into a house 
and was visited by Dr. Dalton, who, after a cautious 
examination, pronounced the case to be one of fracture 
of the neck of the thigh-bone, and proceeded to apply 
a modification of Dessault's long splint. In four or 
five days the patient became so restive under this 
confinement among strangers that he employed a 
carpenter to prepare him a box which should receive 
a bed, together with himself and splint, with a view 
to return home. When the Doctor heard of this, 



13 

he remonstrated, with no small degree of emphasis, 
against the project, but without avail ; the old man 
said he might as well die one way as another, and 
home he would go. When the box was ready, he 
was wagoned home, and was carried forty miles on 
the last day of his journey. 

Eighteen days after the injury, a distinguished 
surgical professor from Hanover was called to him. 
The patient made a somewhat singular appearance 
lying in his box, which, to accommodate himself and 
splint, he being over six feet high, was not much less 
than ten feet in length. The Professor gave it as 
his opinion that the bone was not fractured^ removed 
the splint, and had the patient got up daily. In a 
subsequent lecture, he described the case, and dwelt 
upon the importance that a physician should be very 
cautious to avoid hasty opinions in surgical cases. 
Soon after this, Dr. Dalton wrote to the Professor, 
expressing his surprise at the opinion which he un- 
derstood he had given, and stating that on his first 
visit to the patient he found the limb everted and 
shortened more than an inch, and also detected crep- 
itus. 

Between two and three years after this, he died 
of an acute attack of visceral disease. Our friend 
heard of this, went to the place of his death, and 
requested that the body might be disinterred. His 
request was granted. The bone showed every mark 
of fracture, and constitutes now a most interesting 
specimen of that peculiar accident. Our friend im- 
mediately wrote to the Professor, stating the result, 
and closed with saying it was very important in such 
cases to avoid a hasty diagnosis. 



On the 23d day of April, 1822, the present speaker 
came to Chelmsford, subsequently East Chelmsford, 
now Lowell, and on the 24th began his acquaintance 
with Dr. Dalton, which, ripening into a personal and 
professional friendship, was never interrupted until 
his death, more than forty years afterward. 

It is perhaps all but unavoidable, amid the con- 
flicting interests and competitions of our profession, 
that misunderstandings and alienations will occur. 
This is a danger most likely to happen, and has 
oftenest happened to men of strong and original 
minds.. In the wide influence which such men ex- 
ert, in the popular influence which sustains them, 
in the self-consciousness of strength, and the lurking 
idea of unjust and jealous treatment, the necessity 
and beauty, not to say positive advantage, of har- 
mony between two neighbors in our profession, is 
too often overlooked. 

With opinions and judgments formed with so much 
deliberation, and such earnest convictions as Dr. Dal- 
ton's, it were too much to look for a calm acquies- 
cence in views which ran counter to these opinions. 
His position once taken, would be defended with 
earnestness, bordering on warmth, but never on rude- 
ness. The gentleman always prevailed over the im- 
pulses of a warm temperament and excited manner. 
With his clear powers of discrimination, he could be 
just to himself, and yet not oppressive to others. 

In 1822, Dr. Dalton married the daughter of Dea- 
con Noah Spalding of Chelmsford. She became the 
mother of eight children, five only of whom survive. 
She. died in 1846. She was a lady of singular sweet- 
ness of disposition and manners, the memory of 



*5 

whose many virtues is still fresh in the minds of sev- 
eral within the reach of my voice. 

The thirteen years of his life in Chelmsford were 
years of constantly increasing toil, responsibility, and 
usefulness. Succeeding to a gentleman of great pop- 
ularity and acceptance to a scattered agricultural pop- 
ulation, yet more than ordinarily distinguished for 
general intelligence, he entered at once on a success- 
ful professional career, for which he had many of the 
highest qualifications, and through life retained many 
of those patrons who sought his counsel in his ear- 
liest years. 

During the last ten years of his residence in Chelms- 
ford, he lived to see rising up within the limits of his 
daily rides the germ of another town and city, des- 
tined speedily and certainly to overshadow all its 
neighbors. Within less than four miles from his 
home, a young and rapidly-growing population was 
concentrating. The bustling activity and enterprise 
of the new were in strange contrast to the staid move- 
ments of the old town. The beginning of the town 
thus made was but the promise of the populous city 
which was to be. Professional men were hastening to 
the spot, attracted by the sure prospect of a demand 
for their services, and to place themselves in readi- 
ness to share its success. Dr. Dalton was frequently 
called in consultation, and was forming new friend- 
ships and business relations among our new popula- 
tion. In the autumn of 1831, he removed to Low- 
ell, much to the regret of his Chelmsford friends ; 
but, as time has fully proved, to commence here a 
career of greatly extended practice, usefulness, and 
honor. 



i6 

Lowell then numbered a population of eight thou- 
sand. Of the fifteen physicians then resident here, 
but four remain. 

And now, Gentlemen, that I have traced him to 
the point where for twenty -eight years he was our 
daily associate, how inadequate do I feel to perform 
this grateful duty in a style and manner I could 
regard as worthy his character and befitting its mer- 
its ! How unequal to portray the varied attributes 
of character which gave life and joyous animation to 
the social circle; that made him the beloved physi- 
cian, inspiring confidence in illness and dispelling the 
gloom of the sick-chamber ; that rendered him a 
most acceptable counsellor in our doubts and anx- 
ieties, and called forth the universal respect of the 
profession ! How easy for his friends to recall his 
ever- welcome presence ! On his expanded forehead 
no one could fail to trace the impress of a large and 
calm intelligence. In his beaming smile, none could 
help feeling the warmth of a heart which was the seat 
of all generous and kindly affections ; while his closed 
mouth and rigid muscle around it gave equal evi- 
dence of his firm purpose and indomitable energy 
of will. 

As he came here no stranger, with singular quali- 
fications of mind and heart, with an ample experience 
and training, in the prime of life and vigor, he at 
once entered upon, and constantly retained, a large 
and lucrative practice, and among the best and most 
discriminating portion of our population. 

Medicine is a jealous calling. It brooks no di- 
vided affection and half-way devotion, and bestows 
its honors only on such as continue to be its con- 
stant votaries. 



! 7 

Years ago, a friend residing in his family told me 
fC the Doctor never tired of his duties." With the 
exception of a short visit to Europe, he was seldom 
absent, and night and day was ready for his life- 
long service. 

In his Autobiography he says, " Unambitious of 
either' civil or political distinction, I have sedulously 
and almost exclusively devoted myself to the study 
and practice of my profession, avoiding office or other 
employment demanding any great amount of time 
or thought, from a conviction that the diversion of 
any considerable portion of these by a physician from 
the legitimate duties of his calling would be a virtual 
violation of his pledge, either actual or implied, to 
those relying upon his judgment, skill, and science. 
A mind distracted with politics, or with the ever-re- 
curring duties of responsible civil office, must fre- 
quently find itself in a very unfit state to analyze a 
complicated and perhaps obscure case of disease, 
and requiring after such analysis, wise and cautious 
discrimination in the selection and adaptation of the 
appropriate remedy." 

The reward of his devotion was rich in the con- 
fidence bestowed upon him during his residence 
among us, and most touching was it to see the spon- 
taneous testimony of respect to his memory in the 
long train of citizens of all classes who followed his 
body to the grave. He had an ardent love for the 
medical profession, a high appreciation of its power 
of doing good. He suffered no opportunity to pass 
of making himself acquainted with every improve- 
ment in medical science, of confirming every doubt- 
ful point in pathology, of exhibiting to others in 
3 



i8 

the profession everything of especial interest and im- 
portance in his own practice ; in this, as in every act 
of his life, evincing his thirst for knowledge, not for 
his own aggrandizement, but for the benefit of others. 
I need but to allude to his interest in this Society, 
his fidelity to its highest offices, as President for 
several years, as Councillor of the Massachusetts 
Medical Society, often on its more important com- 
mittees, as Member of the American Medical Asso- 
ciation, often present at its meetings in distant cities, 
and honored by its high trusts. 

And yet the greatest triumphs of these long years 
of faithful toil are locked up in the hearts of weary 
and patient sufferers in the solitude of their sick- 
chambers, and evinced only in the tears which have 
been so often dried by his kindly ministrations and 
cheerful presence. 

Besides his professional traits, which made him so 
useful to all, his moral character was one of great 
strength and purity. He had an inbred sense of 
honor, an entire removal from all meanness, a ster- 
ling integrity, a keen sense of love of right, qualify- 
ing and inspiring all his every-day life, which gave 
him power of personal influence, while it made him 
of inestimable worth as a friend. He had a courteous, 
dignified bearing, a disposition naturally quick, but 
by self-culture subdued to an almost unvarying even- 
ness. 

In his friendships, how unselfish ! He delighted 
in surprising his friends with acts of generous confi- 
dence. I cannot forget, although I ought not per- 
haps so publicly to allude to it, the surprise which 
awaited me on coming home late on the 31st of De- 



l 9 

cember, 1839, to find on my study-table, as a New- 
Year's gift from Dr. Dalton, a Yolio edition of Boy- 
dell's Shakespeare, in calf and gilt, a memento, per- 
haps, of some slight personal service I had had the 
happiness to render in his family during the year 
then closing, wholly forgotten by myself, but never 
by him. How touchingly characteristic, too, the fact 
that the errand which called him from his home, on 
the night of his fatal accident, was to purchase the 
Life of his classmate, Prescott, then newly pub- 
lished, to send to another classmate in a distant 
State. 

As a citizen, we owe him much. As an efficient 
and judicious Alderman, he acted two years, averse 
as he was to all public office. He was always ready 
to contribute of time or money to any enterprise 
undertaken to benefit our rising city. Our Mechanic 
Association, the Mission Schools, the Ministry at 
Large, all testify to the generous gifts and sacrifices 
made in their behalf, and the last words spoken so 
touchingly to his numerous friends around his open 
grave were, He was the friend of the poor. 

At the end of twenty-eight years of busy useful- 
ness in this community, of course constantly changing 
its population, yet never ceasing to use and appre- 
ciate his services, in the enjoyment of health and 
vigor little impaired by age, in 1859 he removed to 
Boston, under circumstances among his family rela- 
tions there particularly inviting and grateful to him, 
and having in the winter of 1851 married a most 
estimable lady, the excellent daughter of the late 
Hon. John Phillips of Andover. 

These five last years, as they proved, in his native 



20 

city and among his family, seem to have been the 
crowning beauty of his life. After his return to Bos- 
ton, he had trials to endure in the deaths, within a 
few years, of his three elder brothers, whose society 
was certainly one of the inducements to change his 
residence. A more permanent source of care and 
anxiety existed in the case of a sister afflicted with 
hopeless infirmity of body and mind. For nearly 
five years he watched over her, an inmate of the same 
house, omitting no. care, no sacrifice of personal ease 
and pleasure to administer to her relief. Her death 
occurred a few months before his own. 

" Having been for nearly forty years absent from 
his native place," says a friend, " he found himself, 
on his return, to some degree a stranger there. But 
every month that passed away contributed to widen 
the circle of his friends and to raise him higher in 
the opinion of the community which he had lately 
joined. His brothers in the profession at once joy- 
fully admitted him to a place among their honored 
members, and medical trusts of dignity and impor- 
tance were eagerly placed in his hands, especially 
those for which he was always ready, where the only 
reward was that of a consciousness of usefulness. 
He was appointed a member of the State Medical 
Commission for the examination of surgeons, in the 
place of. the late Dr. Hay ward, and was elected Senior 
Physician of the new City Hospital a few weeks only 
before his death. 

Withdrawing as much as possible from practice, 
except among his old friends, and relieved entirely 
from the drudgery and necessity of daily work, he 
never for a moment lost his interest in his profes- 



21 

sion. He was punctually present at the meetings of 
the medical societies, at the infirmaries and hospi- 
tals, at the public institutions, charitable, social, or 
literary, and active in everything that concerned the 
welfare of the city and the promotion of order and 
good morals. A good share of his time was de- 
voted to the society of his friends and the repair of 
his old friendships, a touching instance of which was 
in a kind letter to a medical friend in this city, full 
of warm sympathy and true Christian spirit, then 
suffering severe affliction under the loss of a most 
estimable son. 

Dr. Dalton loved his country and deeply felt the 
severity of its fiery trial ; and, faithful as always to 
his convictions of right and personal obligation, he 
gave his abounding labors in the Sanitary Commis- 
sion and every other department which opened an 
opportunity for the free-will offerings of his heart. 
All four of his sons were at one time in the service 
of the country, — two of them in the medical, one 
in civil, and one in the military department. Three 
of them continue so at the present time. 

In a recent address of Governor Andrew, he eulo- 
gized the patriotic zeal of Dr. Dalton, which prompted 
him, when accidentally present on the arrival of two 
hundred wounded men in the steamer " Daniel Web- 
ster," in Boston, to offer his services to the Surgeon- 
General ; and he actually rode up State Street in an 
open ambulance at the head of the column on its way 
to the hospital, while many a young man has turned 
away in disgust from the service, because he disliked 
his assigned position at some capital operation. 

In his occasional visits to Lowell, on professional 



22 

or social duty, it was delightful to his friends to mark 
his cheerful and happy expression. A great advan- 
tage of our profession, says Dr. Knight, and one 
which contributes largely to the happiness of the 
physician, is, that it compels him to possess or assume 
cheerfulness of disposition, kindness of demeanor, 
and a readiness to perform acts of beneficence. These 
constitute no inconsiderable portion of his stock in 
trade, and without a liberal share of them he will 
soon become bankrupt. He must be kind to his 
patients, considerate of their feelings, patient of their 
complaints, though they may often seem to be un- 
reasonable, and ready to afford to them consolation 
and relief. He must, therefore, cultivate these feelings 
until they become a part of his very constitution. 
He who commences a course of this kind, from the 
necessity of his position, will soon learn to continue 
it from the love of it. This inworking of the kind 
feelings which he is so often called upon to express 
and to experience is so effective, that it is rare to 
find a physician advanced in life who is other than 
a cheerful, social, • and benevolent man. And the 
influence of this state upon his own happiness can 
hardly be over-estimated. It is a law of nature as 
definite and as operative as the law of gravitation 
in its effects upon material bodies, that to do good 
to others is to gain it for ourselves, and that our 
own happiness is very nearly in proportion to the 
active exertions which are made to promote the hap- 
piness of our fellow-men. 

Dr. Dalton was a firm believer in Christianity. 
Accustomed to the constant expression of their most 
intimate feelings in words, there are those who lose 



2 3 

sight of the fact that there is a religion, no less pure 
than their own, which shrinks from such constant 
assertion of itself, and which is satisfied to do justly, 
love mercy, and walk humbly with God. 

He says : " My life has been emphatically a 
happy one. Not free, of course, from the natural 
vicissitudes. Although neither a Swedenborgian nor 
a Spiritualist, I enjoy communion with near and dear 
friends, who from time to time have gone to enjoy 
the nearer presence of their Creator. When occa- 
sionally, either through my own indiscreetness or 
the unreliability of others, pecuniary losses have been 
sustained, my equanimity has remained undisturbed, 
since the moral profit and pleasure incident to acqui- 
sition ever remains beyond the reach of chance. 

" I have never had a moment's misgiving in rela- 
tion to the immortality of the soul aside from rev- 
elation ; for if, as my philosophy assures me, it is 
not possible that any particle of created matter should 
ever be annihilated, the soul, one and indivisible, 
must have an eternal existence. 

" No believer in creeds, as such, I have a firm 
faith in the word of God. And although I believe 
in the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, yet, having the 
same firm faith in the Unity of God as in his word, 
and in the subordination to him of all other Intelli- 
gences, I cannot give my assent to the so-called doc- 
trine of the Trinity, as, after anxious inquiry, I have 
ever yet heard it explained. 

cc Nor can I adopt that other dogma which asserts 
the original total depravity of man's nature ; for, be- 
sides my assurance, that it is the work of an infinitely 
benevolent Supreme Almighty Being, I cannot rec- 



24 

oncile the proposition to those precious words which 
have brought such consolation, since their utterance, 
to so many millions of mothers in their hours of be- 
reavement, of Him who loved little children, who 
said, c Suffer little children to come unto me, and 
forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of 
Heaven/ And yet how painfully am I experiment- 
ally conscious of my nature's many acquired and 
acquiesced in sins and infirmities : my entire life has 
been a conflict with more than one of these perverse 
tendencies, and to my shame I acknowledge that the 
victory has not even yet been my own ; but the re- 
pulsed, yet hopeful, enemy yet returns again and 
again to the siege, and may yet accomplish his de- 
sign. Frail, therefore, and imperfect, and devoid of 
all merit in myself, I yet willingly and hopefully 
trust myself in life and in death to the mercy, jus- 
tice, and goodness of Him whom his Son, my 
Saviour, (if I will permit him to be such,) has jus- 
tified us in addressing as Our Father who art in 
Heaven, and whom he addressed as c His Father 
and our Father/ c His God and our God/ 

cc I do not hope to escape the penalty of a single 
sin which I may have committed ; but I do not 
believe it will be arbitrarily administered. As fire 
burns or water drowns, so by the immutable law 
of God does sin scar and mar and depreciate the 
soul, — c the soul that sinneth, it shall surely die'; 
that is, shall be scarred and marred and depreciated, 
and that in perfect proportion to its amount of 
guilt ; and I believe the penalty will be remedial, 
and therefore I dare not state the amount of sin- 
fulness which should make the errant soul despair 



2 5 



of final restoration to that state constituting heaven. 
True Religion seems to me to consist in the steady 
love of God's truth, and in the persevering culti- 
vation of obedience to those eternal principles of 
justice which shall make wrong-doing impossible, 
and that carried out into the minutest concerns of 
life ; and I do not believe that there can be any 
merit in well-doing which rests on a less stable 
foundation. 

"At your request," he says, (C I have given you 
some sketch of my life and experience, the upshot 
of which is, that I was born, have lived, and, as I 
trust, shall be willing, in God's own time, with 
becoming submission to relinquish the life that was 
His gift; death, since it is one of His wise ordina- 
tions, having no terrors for me, as much as I ever 
have, and continue still to enjoy, life." 

Such was his own humble estimate of his life-long 
services ; such was the faith which had prompted 
and strengthened him in their performance, and which 
was soon to be brought to its final test and fulfil- 
ment. In less than seven years after he penned 
those lines, by a sudden accident he was placed upon 
his death-bed. 

He had nearly reached his threescore years and 
ten. The important mission imposed upon him he 
had successfully carried out. The duties he was 
charged with he had conscientiously fulfilled. His 
work was done, — done nobly, done hopefullv. 

The short week remaining to him was filled with 

the assiduous attentions of his devoted family and 

his professional friends. His religious faith shed a 

serene light over the closing scene, which was in keep- 

4 



26 

ing with the general tenor of his life, — calm, trustful, 
and happy. 

His last hours were hours of sweet peace. His 
last words were brave words of Christian counsel to 
his children and near friends. All who witnessed 
those hours and heard those words must have rec- 
ognized the broad foundation on which his character 
was moulded, and the Source, something surely higher 
than earth, of his true, noble life. 

When the young die, we mourn for the hopes 
which have faded like the flowers on their bier ; when 
the places of the old know them no more forever, 
we mourn that the tree which has long sheltered us, 
and, perchance, been a landmark for the wandering, 
has fallen from its station ; but when Death smites 
the vine which was still giving us nourishment with 
its fruit and refreshment with its shade, how sadly 
tender is the memory of its fragrant blossoms ! how 
mournful and desolate seems the future, of whose 
riches it had offered so liberal a pledge ! 

Such was our departed friend. His nature, his 
culture, his earlier and maturer fruits, combined to 
make his life a blessing to those who partook of his 
gifts or dwelt within his shadow. 

He died in Boston, January 9, 1864, aged 68 
years, 7 months. 

" A firm, yet cautious mind ; 
Sincere, though prudent ; constant, yet resigned ; 
Honor unchanged, a principle profest ; 
Fixed to one side, yet moderate to the rest ; 
Filled with the sense of age, the fire of youth ; 
A scorn of wrangling, yet a zeal for truth ; 
A generous faith, from superstition free ; 
A love for peace and hate to tyranny : 
Such this man was." 



APPENDIX 



APPENDIX 



At a meeting of the Boston Society for Medical Improve- 
ment, Dr. Warren gave the following account of the illness 
and death of the late Dr. John C. Dalton, the valuable and 
distinguished physician whose case has excited so much inter- 
est both among the medical profession and the public gen- 
erally : — 

On Saturday evening, January 2d, Dr. Dalton slipped on 
the ice near his own house, falling upon a piece of iron, the 
model of a cannon, about six inches long and one inch in 
diameter, which he had in his pocket, and which was forcibly 
driven against his left side. He went home and lay upon the 
sofa until bedtime, complaining of general uneasiness, and 
expressing the feeling that he had received some ill-defined 
injury. 

In the middle of the night he was attacked with violent 
pain in the left hypochondriac region, extending thence over 
the whole abdomen. He sent for Dr. Edward H. Clarke, 
under whose charge he remained during his illness. At this 
time he expressed the fear that he was suffering from intussus 
ception of the intestine. Large doses of opium were given 
without material relief, after which ether was administered by 
inhalation, and the effect of it was kept up during the greatei 
part of thirty-six hours. He was seen on Sunday afternoon 
by Dr. Warren, who continued in attendance with Dr. Clarke, 
from day to day during the remainder of his illness. After a 
very critical examination, no positive evidence could be dis- 
covered of injury to any internal organs. The bowels had 
been thoroughly evacuated by an enema immediately after the 



3° 

first visit of Dr. Clarke. He had passed no urine, nor was 
there any sign of any collection in the bladder. At his own 
request, however, a catheter was passed into the Urethra, but 
it was arrested at the neck of the bladder by spasm, and no 
farther effort was made. The absence of the secretion was 
attributed in part to the great quantity of opium which he had 
taken, together with the ether which he had inhaled during so 
many hours, and which was attended by profuse perspiration. 
The stomach having become tranquillized after the etheriza- 
tion was stopped, and some hot drink administered, warm 
applications being at the same time made over the pubes, 
micturition took place spontaneously, no abnormal appearance 
being shown by the urine, or in the urinary organs, during 
the remainder of his illness. 

There had been at first sight marks of contusion on the 
abdomen and lower part of the chest, which, however, soon 
disappeared. In the hypochondriac region, for the first day 
or two, there was an induration of limited extent, which ap- 
peared, however, to be due as much to an instinctive action 
of the muscles to resist pressure as to any internal injury 
caused by the contusion. There was more dulness in the left 
lumbar region than in the corresponding region in the right 
side, and this dulness gradually increased in extent as the case 
proceeded. The respiration was perfectly normal in the very 
lower part of the chest, where the injury was received. There 
was no tenderness on pressure when Dr. Warren saw him, 
either in the chest or abdomen, although this symptom had 
been previously noticed ; and, from the general absence of de- 
cided symptoms in the regions noticed, it was surmised that 
there might be an injury of the spleen with some effusion of 
blood. On Monday his symptoms seemed to be of a favor- 
able character ; on Tuesday morning there was decided evi- 
dence of pneumonia in the lower part of the left lung, which 
gradually increased, involving more or less of both lungs, until 
death ensued on Friday, at 4 o'clock, p. m. Dr. Dalton had 
complete possession of his senses until within a short period 
of his death, and arranged all his affairs with coolness and 
deliberation. 



3 1 

There has been a remarkable mortality in the family of Dr. 
Dalton within a short time, three of his brothers and two sis- 
ters having died within the past five years, most of them sud- 
denly ; and it is worthy of mention that one of his brothers, 
who received a fall on the ice, somewhat like his own, was 
seized, after a few days, with double pneumonia, which ter- 
minated fatally. 

The following account of the autopsy is furnished by Dr. 
Ellis : — 

There was extensive pneumonia, involving both lungs, 
the left lower lobe being gray, the corresponding part of the 
right still red. The lower part of the upper right lobe was 
similarly affected, and the whole of the left highly oedematous. 

A small amount of blood was seen upon the peritoneal sur- 
face on opening the abdominal cavity, but the subperitoneal 
tissue was extensively infiltrated with the same, which ex- 
tended into the meso-colon, omentum, and other folds. Around 
the left kidney was a large, blackish coagulum, and in the 
hilus a transverse fracture, perhaps an inch long and a third of 
an inch in depth at the deepest part. To this the coagulum 
adhered firmly. 

Both kidneys were large and quite soft. On examining a 
portion with the microscope, the tubuli were found crowded 
with granular epithelium, so that all appearance of a tube was 
lost. 

The spleen was small and quite soft. 

The liver was of a pale-red color, but in other respects 
normal. 



FROM THE LOWELL "COURIER," JANUARY u, 1864. 

At a meeting of a number of the friends of the late Dr. J. C. 
Dalton, held at the Railroad Bank, this morning, S. W. Stick- 
ney, Esq., stated the object for which they had come to- 



3 2 

gether ; and upon his suggestion, Judge Crosby was called to 
the chair, and A. W. Buttrick appointed secretary. 

Dr. J. O. Green stated, in a feeling manner, the time and 
cause of the death of Dr. Dalton, and his high appreciation of 
him as a beloved and skilful physician, a public-spirited citi- 
zen, a social and endeared companion and friend. 

Charles Hovey, Esq., then offered the following resolu- 
tions, which were unanimously adopted : — 

" Whereas, it has come to our knowledge that our late fel- 
low-citizen, Doctor John C. Dalton, has departed this life, 
and that his body is to-day to be brought to this city for inter- 
ment, it is 

" Resolved, That we declare our unaffected sorrow for the 
loss of a tried friend, an estimable citizen, and a beloved phy- 
sician. 

" Resolved, That our feelings demand some public expres- 
sion of the high appreciation of his noble character, which an 
acquaintance of more than a quarter of a century has im- 
planted within us. 

" Resolved, That we will assemble at the railway station 
to meet his remains, and unobtrusively follow them to the 
cemetery. 

" Resolved, That a request be made to the proper authority 
for the chiming of the bells, in which our late friend took so 
great an interest, and was so instrumental in procuring. 

" Resolved, That the records of this meeting with the reso- 
lutions be sent to the family of the deceased, and also to the 
Lowell papers for publication." 

Hon. J. A. Knowles made some remarks expressive of the 
great loss to the community by the sudden departure of the 
deceased. 

"Voted, To meet at the passenger-depot, Merrimack Street, 
at i\ o'clock, P. M., and join the funeral procession to the 
cemeterv." 



33 

Lowell, January 27th, 1864. 

The following preamble and resolutions were presented by 
Dr. Elisha Huntington, and unanimously adopted by the fel- 
lows of the Middlesex North District Medical Society, at the 
regular quarterly meeting : — 

" Whereas, it has pleased Almighty God to remove from 
this world our friend and late fellow-member of the Middle- 
sex North District Medical Society, John Call Dalton, M. D. ; 
while humbly bowing to this dispensation of an all-wise Provi- 
dence, it becomes us to give some public expression to the 
feelings that an event so unexpected and so sad is well de- 
signed to excite ; therefore, 

" Resohed, (i.) That in the death of Dr. Dalton we mourn 
the loss of a remarkably intelligent and sagacious physician, 
a wise and judicious counsellor, a warm-hearted and genial 
friend, and a high-principled and Christian gentleman. 

" (2.) That in our behalf, and in behalf of this communitv, 
where for so many years the deceased was known and loved, 
we desire to bear our testimony to his uniform kindness, to 
his unfailing charity, and to his active devotion to every good 
work. 

" (3.) That in the zeal and devotion he has manifested in 
the present unhappy struggle for national unitv, — in the ded- 
ication of his own sons to his beloved countrv, — in the sacri- 
fice of time and money for the benefit of the suffering soldiers, 
— he has proved himself a true man and an enlightened pa- 
triot. 

" (4.) That Dr. John O. Green be requested to deliver 
before the Middlesex North District Medical Society an 
address upon the life and character of Dr. Dalton, at such 
time as may suit his convenience. 

" (5.) That a copy of these resolutions, duly signed by the 
President and Secretary, be forwarded to the family of the 
late Dr. Dalton, and that the same be published in the c Bos- 
ton Medical and Surgical Journal ' and in the papers in this 
city." 

JONATHAN BROWN, President. 
GEO. H. WHITMORE, Secretary. 
5 



34 

At the regular monthly meeting of the Suffolk District 
Medical Society, held on Saturday evening, January 30th, 
1864, the following resolutions were passed: — 

" Resolved, That the members of this Society have heard 
with profound regret the announcement of the death of Dr. 
John C. Dalton, one of its most honored and beloved mem- 
bers. 

" That in Dr. Dalton's character the qualities which insure 
professional eminence and usefulness were admirably united 
to those which win universal respect and love. 

" That through a long professional career he was distin- 
guished not only by abilities of a high order, and the most 
thorough training in his art, but by the spirit of a high-minded 
and honorable Christian gentleman. 

" That in his death the medical profession has lost one of 
its best members, the poor a kind and tender friend, society 
a man greatly beloved, and our country a patriot who knew 
no sacrifice too costly to make in her defence. 

" That we offer our heartfelt sympathy to his bereaved 
family, with the hope that in this the hour of its great sorrow 
they may be borne up by Heaven's best consolations, and 
soothed by the pleasant memories that will ever cluster about 
his noble life and beautiful death." 

D. H. STORER, President. 
D. W. CHEEVER, Secretary. 



Boston, June 10th, 1864. 

At the annual meeting of the Councillors of the Massachu- 
setts Medical Society, the following resolutions were unani- 
mously passed, and it was voted to send a copy to the family 
of the late Dr. Dalton : — 

" Resolved, That in the long life of Dr. J. C. Dalton, the 
Massachusetts Medical Society, and the community, have en- 
joyed the companionship, the services, and the co-operation 



35 

of a gentleman of the strictest purity and integrity, of gener- 
ous sympathies and unfaltering honor, of high literary and sci- 
entific attainments, and a physician of wisdom and extensive 
usefulness. 

" Resolved, That in his death this Society has lost an hon- 
orable, devoted, learned, and beloved associate, whose high 
and unswerving principles, and deep and intelligent interest in 
the Profession and in humanity, have secured him the appreci- 
ative confidence of the community among whom he lived and 
labored, whose pure and amiable character won for him the 
love and respect of a wide circle of friends, and whose scien- 
tific acquirements, professional skill, and honorable bearing had 
gained for him the unfaltering and abiding esteem of society 
and of the Medical Profession to whom he was known. 

"Resolved, That the Massachusetts Medical Society deeply 
sympathize with the family of Dr. Dalton, and offer their 
warm condolence in this their hour of trial, and the assurance 
that the memory of his beautiful and effective life will long re- 
main in their hearts a monument of a respected and beloved 
associate.'* 

C. D. HOMANS, Recording Secretary, 

Massachusetts Medical Society. 



